


fingerprints

by ohsusie



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Organized Crime, Prostitution, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28347468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsusie/pseuds/ohsusie
Summary: his hair is all over the place, extra curly from the rain, and the mascara on his eyelashes has run down his cheeks, making him look like he's been crying. maybe he has."hi, baby," dele whispers, trying to pull him into his arms, but harry squirms too much and looks so uncomfortable that he just can't. "what's wrong? i can't touch you?"or: dele just wants to take care of harry everytime he's hurt. harry gets hurt a lot. dele's never the first person he goes to.
Relationships: Dele Alli/Eric Dier/Harry Winks, Dele Alli/Harry Winks, Eric Dier/Harry Winks
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	fingerprints

usually, dele is the one who comes home in the early morning, when his boys are asleep in each other's arms, when the entire building is dark and quiet because everyone's gone to bed, but not tonight. harry's not home yet, and their room is still lit up because he can't sleep when he's not sure both his sweethearts are safe.

eric's already sleeping, tucked in and warm right next to him, and dele doesn't blame him. he knows he hasn't slept for more than three days because of everything going on. a big former conflict is blossoming up again and just last week, he left burn marks on their enemies' errand-boys with branding tools meant for cattle. 

quietly, he stands up from the bed and walks to their own, tiny but still practical, kitchen to prepare something for harry to eat when he comes home. he turns on the tea kettle and prepares the chai for him, because even if he wants to drink coffee after these long nights, they both know it makes it impossible for him to sleep for another three hours. then, he turns the oven on to warm the scones eric made yesterday, to make sure they're warm enough for the butter to melt.

the radio's on, playing a mellow frank sinatra song that makes everything go a little bit slower, and paired with the steady raindrops outside, it creates this cozy setting. the only lighting they have in the kitchen comes from the yellow fluorescent lamp over the countertops and the sink, and it's a little too ugly for most people, but dele doesn't mind. he's just tired of the dark, tired of not knowing what's there because he can't see it.

he checks the scones after a few minutes and when he sees that they aren't done just yet, he leaves them to heat them up some more and takes out the blueberry jam from their small fridge. honestly, he'd like to eat it himself, but he knows harry needs it more because sometimes, he gets so upset and grumpy when he comes home and eric isn't there to take care of him.

because, no matter how much harry denies it, dele knows he loves eric more. they've been together for so long, way before they came here, and harry would always choose eric before him. and it's not like it upsets him, just a little bit, because he understands. he understands how you always have one person who makes you feel safer than anyone else ever could, and for harry, that's eric. he was his first everything; his first kiss, his first boyfriend (his first partner ever), his first time.

dele could never live up to that, but it's okay, because harry still loves him, even if eric forever will be his home, his heart, his love. dele will always have his first love, as well. he'll always love her even when she's not here anymore, even when they'll never meet again. maybe he loves harry and eric because they remind him so much of her, with harry's soft-spoken voice and vulnerability and eric's steady hands and warm mind.

sometimes, he cries because he misses her too much. most of the time, he doesn't. his heart gets to suffer in silence because there's too much going on for him to have time to be sad about it. additionally, he knows both eric and harry hate it when he's sad, and they always make him happier again. they tuck him in and stroke his hair and kiss his forehead and maybe, he cries until he's tired enough to sleep, wrapped in a veil of fog and calm.

he doesn't feel as sad tonight, though. harry said he'll be home around four in the morning and he still has ten minutes to go, and dele won't start to worry until half past four. he puts the scones on afterheat in the oven and sits down on the chair next to the unsteady table, just resting his head on his arms because he's just so tired. it's been a long time since the last time he was this exhausted.

five minutes later, the door opens, letting in a streak of light into their dark hallway, and after the door closes, dele can see harry's silhouette taking off his shoes. he hears his teeth chattering from the cold and he wants to wrap harry in warmth and softness until he won't freeze anymore, until all the goosebumps go away.

harry comes into the kitchen, wearing only a silk robe that the don probably gave him as soon as he came into the building, because his clothes always need to be washed after he works for this long, and he looks gorgeous. he looks like the rich girls in the big mansions in movies. his hair is all over the place, extra curly from the rain, and the mascara on his eyelashes has run down his cheeks, making him look like he's been crying. maybe he has.

"hi, baby," dele whispers, trying to pull him into his arms, but harry squirms too much and looks so uncomfortable that he just can't. "what's wrong? i can't touch you?"

"i need help," harry mumbles, his trembling hands untying the belt to open his robe, and what's underneath makes dele shiver all over.

he's wearing his corset, the one that's reserved for his richest clients. no one else gets to have him in this, because it hurts him. it squeezes his lungs and makes his ribs hurt, but fuck, if he isn't beautiful in it. he's beautiful, skin pale against the black leather and his waist so, so thin because the corset is always laced so tightly. delenwants to touch him, this pretty boy who's right in front of him, this pretty boy who's hurting and who can't breathe properly and it makes dele feel so, so guilty.

"you want me to take it off for you?" he asks, and harry nods with this relieved look on his face like he's been waiting for that question. "turn around."

harry does as he says, turning until his back is against dele, and takes off his robe completely, letting the black silk fall to the floor. his legs are naked, since his stockings probably ripped during his time with the clients, but he's still wearing the black lace panties and garter belts. he could be compared to a perverted image of an angel, but dele hates thinking of him like that. harry's not perverted, he's not disgusting, he's not dirty. he's a boy who does what he has to do.

not very graciously, dele starts untying the laces at the back of the corset, and he's sure eric would be twice as fast because he's used to doing this, knows where all the knots are and which laces go with which. dele's fingers are too unaccustomed to it, can't really figure out how to do it properly, but harry patiently waits in front of him. the back of his thighs have red, criss-crossed lines all over them and it stings to see. anyone can do whatever they want to him as long as they pay enough money and it hurts, because no one can save him. no one can save him from the danger of leaving the family.

"where's eric?" harry asks, and dele knew this question was coming. "is he home?"

"he's sleeping," dele answers a bit distractedly, focusing on unlacing his corset until it's finally loose enough to take off. he stands up and makes harry stretch his arms up, so he can pull it off, then letting it fall to the floor. "take a few deep breaths."

"i'm breathing," harry sighs with a trembling voice. "i'm breathing, i can breathe."

his body looks so heartachingly vulnerable with the red marks from the harsh lines of the corset and the red, swollen lines all over the back of his thighs. when he turns around, dele can feel his chest strain even more because looking closer, he sees the wet tears in harry's eyes. he looks so exhausted, like all he wants to do is sleep, but he needs to eat.

"there's scones in the oven, sweetheart. you have to eat."

quietly, harry hums and walks over to the oven to get the scones, but then he stops in his tracks, his fingers running over the lace over his hips. "can I go change?"

"of course. you go change, i'll prepare the scones for you."

he comes back a few minutes later, wearing his blue sweater and grey sweatpants, looking safe and proper and warm. the scones with the blueberry jam are lying on a plate on the table and dele is sitting on the chair next to it, and harry, being so incredibly tired, places himself on his lap and immediately buries his face in the crook of his neck.

his hair is brushed now, all fluffy and airy, and all his bruises are covered by soft, worn-out fabric. he almost looks like an average, healthy boy, one who doesn't know how it is to be treated like an animal, like money is more important than he is. dele runs his hands over harry's sides to soothe him, feeling how his warmth seeps through the sweater.

"what did they do to you, baby? how much did they hurt you?"

"could be worse," he mumbles and traces the pattern on dele's shirt with his index finger, and dele honestly admires him so much. he's the bravest boy he knows, the strongest person he's ever met. "my thighs hurt. and my ribs. i don't want to work tomorrow."

"i'll talk to the don. see if you can have the day off, hm? lie in bed with eric all day."

harry hums, nodding slowly like it's a good but unreasonable thought, then he looks up at dele with his green, wet eyes. "and you. i want to be with you too."

"thank you, baby."

there's a tiny smile on harry's face as he nods again and presses a kiss to dele's stubbly cheek, so innocent and sweet like he's five years younger than he really is. dele wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him closer because now, it doesn't feel like he's only substituting for eric, and harry immediately snuggles into his shirt, his head on dele's shoulder, nosing at his neck.

"i love you," harry whispers, like it's a secret no one else is allowed to hear. "so much. i love you. i love you." then, there's a quieter; "i've missed being close to you."

then, there's a soft kiss against his jaw, and harry's hands are leading dele's hands under his shirt to feel the warm, still dented skin. and god, who could ever not love him back? he has dele wrapped around his finger and by now, that's no secret.

"i love you, too. my baby."


End file.
